


Loose Ends

by BaconSwiffer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Confessions, Depressed Keith (Voltron), Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, TW for suicidal thoughts and actions, dont worry there's a happy ending, klance, klangst, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:27:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23919019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaconSwiffer/pseuds/BaconSwiffer
Summary: Keith is not okay.He doesn’t know what day it is. His phone is still on the coffee table, untouched for probably almost a month.When the sun starts setting, Keith is weirdly energized. He’s finally going to do it. He’s so sick of living and he’s finally going to be free.(Or the one where Keith is suicidal but Lance is there.)
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 173
Collections: Klangst





	1. Skittles and Evictions

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty much just a vent fic. TW: Suicidal thoughts and actions. Please consider your safety before reading!

Keith is not okay. 

He’s lying on the couch in his apartment that probably won’t be his soon, wondering what to do with his pointless life. 

He hasn’t been to classes in about a week. He hasn’t paid his rent for who knows how long and is definitely getting evicted soon. 

Why can’t things ever go right for him?

The memory of blue eyes flashes to the forefront of his mind and guilt rises up like bile. He’s been ignoring the countless texts from Lance, along with everyone else who’s tried to reach out to him while he’s been MIA. Not that it’s a lot of people. Shiro and Lance mostly. Hunk and Pidge left a few too, and Keith thinks there's one from that asshole in his english class who he has to work on a project with.

But luckily, his phone is now out of battery and he can wallow in peace, without the constant buzzing of his phone driving him insane. He closes his eyes, listening to the quiet sound of cars passing by outside his open window. The beating of wings from the pigeons that always shit on his car is present too.

He spirals.

_ This is all your fault. _

_ You can’t do anything right. _

_ You knew you’d never make it. Why’d you bother to try? _

On his counter, next to a stack of dirty dishes that had piled up over a few weeks, sits an empty prescription bottle. Keith glares at it. Antidepressants are shit.

Everything is too much. Too much and not enough all at once.

He feels everything and nothing. 

Anger, sadness, guilt, eating him up inside. 

Numb.

He drifts off into a fitful sleep.

__

Insistent knocking rouses him. He blinks a few times, staring up at his ceiling, wishing he could sleep forever. He figures it's been a few hours, given that the sun is now low in the sky, casting shadows on the walls of his apartment.

“Keith?” A muffled voice travels through the door.  _ Shit _ .

“Dude, I know you're in there, open the door or I’ll have to ninja my way up the fire escape!”

Keith tries to tamp down on the fondness that rises in his chest and focuses on the annoyance. 

_ Yes, that’s right. Push him away. Keep everyone at arm’s length, remember? So that it’s easier when one of you inevitably leaves.  _

More knocking. 

Keith lets out a quiet breath, hauling his lazy ass off the couch. He doesn’t want to talk to Lance right now. Not now. He needs to be alone. But he heads to the door anyway because he knows how stubborn Lance is.

He keeps the chain in so that Lance can’t come in and see the state of his apartment. Or Keith. He’s not sure which he’s more embarrassed about.

As soon as he starts turning the knob, Lance cheers from the other side of the door. 

“Whoo! Thanks for not making me climb the fire escape! Pidge said you were sick, so I brought takeout and some shitty movies-” He pauses when Keith only leaves the door cracked open. 

“Keith?”

He doesn't answer. He only opened the door so Lance could see he was fine and he would leave. The door rattles when Lance tries to push it open.

“Uhhh, Keith? Let me in, dude.”

He waits for a second, probably expecting Keith to unlatch the chain. He doesn't. 

“I’m sick Lance,” he rasps, trying to make it sound believable. “Just leave the stuff outside. I don’t wanna infect you.”

Lance laughs like the idea is preposterous. 

“Seriously? I haven't seen you in forever! C’mon, we can sit on opposite sides of the couch or something.”

Keith is getting irritated. He just wants to go back to letting the growing darkness swallow him up. He wants to get away from everything and everyone. He’s so sick and tired of living.

“Go  _ away _ , Lance,” he growls lowly, his voice hard. He can tell he’s startled by the silence that follows.

_ Close the door _ .  _ Leave him behind. He won’t miss you. None of them will. You’re so forgettable. _

“Keith, are you okay?” Lance asks, his voice softer. “I mean, are you really sick? Or is this something else? I’m always here to talk, man. I just wanna help-” 

Kieth cuts him off. He’s so tired of all this bullshit. Lance doesn’t even know him. Not the real him. Not the ugly side. Sure, he's the closest friend he’s had in awhile, and he’s got a huge unrequited crush on him, but he can’t deal with anyone leaving anymore. It’s his turn to leave.

“Just  _ go _ Lance. I don’t need you to baby me. I’m fine. Just leave.” And he shuts the door.

Lance protests through the door for a while, spotting bullshit like “I’m worried about you! Please, just talk to me!” and “I’m always here if you need me.”

_ Pfft _ . He’s lived long enough to know that no one sticks around. Even Shiro, who’s basically his adopted older brother, has his own life now. He got married to his dream guy. He’s on his fucking honeymoon. He doesn’t want to deal with Keith anymore. Once Lance gives up, he’ll be free. No more strings attaching him to this world. No one to mourn him when he’s gone.

Lance leaves eventually, by the time the sun has already set. Keith doesn’t bother turning the lights on, letting the street lamps illuminate the parts of the room they could reach. 

He sighs, wondering how long he’s going to let this go on. He’s ready to give up. Just tie off the loose ends.

He slowly loses consciousness thinking about whether it would hurt if he jumped off a building.

__

Lance is worried out of his mind. He asks Shiro about what happened at Keith’s apartment, and he said that Keith goes through times like this where he doesn't come out of his apartment for a while. That’s just “how he is sometimes” apparently. 

Lance didn’t think that brushing it off was a good idea. Keith wasn’t himself. Lance knew the difference between “I’m just going through a rough patch” Keith and “I’m losing my fucking mind” Keith.

This was definitely the latter. He knew Keith had some underlying mental health stuff, but he thought he had recovered. The only other time he’d seen Keith like this was when Shiro got in the accident. 

But he didn’t want to bother Shiro on his honeymoon, especially if this really was just a “I’m just going through a rough patch” situation.

So he keeps texting, keeps dropping by Keith’s apartment, usually leaving food or something. It’s always there the next day. Sometimes he just sits in the parking lot, hoping Keith will be the one to walk out the door and not that grumpy old guy who yelled at Lance for wearing a crop top.

Keith never answers. He never leaves. Lance is worried.

__

Countless days later, Keith decides he’s ready. He finally got his eviction notice. Everything has already been cut off. But it’s not like he was using his electricity or water before. The only consequence is that now he can’t take a bath with his toaster.

He doesn’t know what day it is. His phone is still on the coffee table, untouched for probably almost a month. 

He’s decided jumping is the cheapest option. He’s too broke for pills or poison and there’s no way he’s getting his hands on a gun. 

Maybe tonight, if he’s not too lazy. He wishes he could just do it in his apartment, but he pities the nice landlord lady who would probably be the one to find his body.

Minutes bleed into hours and all Keith does is write a short note and eat some gummy worms. 

When the sun starts setting, Keith is weirdly energized. He’s finally going to do it. He’s so sick of living and he’s finally going to be free. He's ready.

He tapes the note to his fridge and half-asses some cleanup so his apartment won’t look too terrible.

When the sky finally turns orange and the sun is only peeking over the skyline, Keith has his boots and coat on and he’s opening the door. In front of him is a little stack of knick knacks and food.

Some of them have sticky notes attached to them. He kneels down and picks up a bag of skittles. The note attached reads,  _ Thought you could use a little rainbow in your life! (Get it?? Taste the rainbow??) Feel better soon buddy! _

He grabs another note.  _ Don’t tell anyone this, but sometimes I sleep with a stuffed animal! Helps me feel less alone. Got u a hippo ‘cause I know they’re your favorite :) _

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck he can’t do this. Not when Lance is now taking over his thoughts. His smile, his laugh, his eyes, nonononono NO.

He has to go. He’d just be avoiding the inevitable if he didn’t.

_ Go. He’s just that kind of guy. He’ll forget about you. You don’t deserve him. GO. _

Keith steps over the pile, shutting the door behind him and rushing down the hallway. 

Don’t look back.

_ He’ll never love you. _

Don’t look back.

_ You’re too much for him. _

Don’t look back.

_ No one wants to deal with your shit. _

Don’t look back.

_ Jump. _

Keith doesn’t look back.


	2. Loose Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this is the second chapter... v angsty. Sorry, this is a vent fic. Also, sorry for any grammar mistakes... I didn't really revise it oops.

The chilly night air rushes through the open windows of his car. He knows exactly where he’s headed. It’s on the edge of town, a rickety wooden bridge that passes over a rushing river. 

Keith remembers camping trips there. Instead of ignoring good memories like he usually does, he embraces the warmth that comes with them, not seeing a reason to make himself even more miserable before he dies. He hopes death is just as peaceful.

The buildings become smaller and farther apart as he makes his way to his final destination. When he pulls into the empty parking lot, he sits back and thinks.

_So this is the end._

__

Lance stiffly stands from the uncomfortable wooden chair he’d been sitting in for the last few hours, stretching his arms above his head and feeling a satisfying crack from his back. 

He holds back a yawn, packing up his materials to head home. It’s already dark outside, and Lance is not eager to leave the warmth of the building, but he hadn't dropped by Keith’s yesterday so he wants to go today. 

Shouldering his bag and slipping on his jacket, he waves goodbye to the librarian and steps out, making his way to his car.

He idles for a minute, waiting for the car to heat up and finding a good playlist for the short ride. 

He pulls into his usual space in the apartment's parking lot, hopping out and quickly hurrying inside the building to escape the cold. By the time he’s gone up the two flights of stairs, he’s warm enough to pull off his jacket.

He makes his way over to Keith’s door, stopping short when he sees the pile of things he’d left had been disrupted. His brows furrow as he crouches down to examine it. Nothing was gone, so it must’ve been Keith, not someone taking something. 

His heart beats a little bit faster. He stands, knocking on the door gently and laying his hand flat against the wood.

“Keith? Buddy? You in there?” An expected silence follows. He sighs, his hand slipping down to the doorknob. 

It turns.

_It turns_. 

Lance’s eyes widen, twisting the doorknob completely and pushing the door in, just enough to pop his head inside the apartment. His mouth tilts into a worried frown. Hesitantly, he pushes it open all the way and steps over the pile he left to enter. 

He stands in the entryway, examining the room a little more thoroughly. There are piles of dishes stacked on the counter. An empty prescription bottle. The window is cracked open, making the curtains sway gently. 

He lifts his hand to turn on the lights, but nothing happens. Has Keith not paid his electric bill? He walks over to the counter, spotting a piece of paper with two big red words on it: _EVICTION NOTICE_.

Lance’s stomach turns over. Keith should’ve told him. He could help! Sure, they’re both broke college students, but they could figure something out. Does he at least have any food to eat? All he’d seen so far was a bag of gummy worms on the counter.

He walks over to the fridge, immediately noticing the piece of paper taped to it, Keith’s familiar scrawl barely visible in the dark.

He squints, unable to read it, and pulls out his phone to flip on the flashlight. His eyes skim the page, and his heart stops. 

_To whoever finds this,_

_You’re probably my landlord. Sorry for being a pain in the ass. The least I could do was not commit suicide in the apartment. If you knew me well then you knew that I was never the happiest guy. I didn’t have a good childhood. Never had a good life. Not much of a story to tell there. I’m not sure why I’m writing this. Maybe for some closure? I don’t know. I was just depressed. Had been since middle school. There wasn’t a lot anyone could do for me. Only a couple people really got through to me. To those two, thank you. You made my life bearable. Sorry I had to leave you. One of us had to do it._

_Keith_

Lance can feel his heart beating, seemingly getting louder every second. 

_No_.

Keith can’t go. He can’t leave. _No._

Where is he? Is he gone already? Is it too late? 

_Think, Lance! Where would he go?_

Lance knows. He knows exactly where Keith is. He drops the note, sprinting out of the apartment building and flying down the stairs. His car is moving before he even closes the door. He doesn’t even care if a cop tries to pull him over they can just follow him. He might need them if- 

No. 

Keith, please don’t go. 

__

The prospect of dying seems underwhelming now that he’s thought about it so much. He wonders if everybody is aware of how fragile life is. The water beneath him is rushing, and he imagines letting the current wash over him, water filling up his lungs.

His feet dangle over the edge, swinging back and forth idly. He wonders if the wind could knock him over if it blew hard enough. 

And then he wonders why he hasn’t jumped yet. He could just close his eyes and let go. But he doesn’t. Because maybe he wants a little more time to come to terms with the fact that this is the end. It’s kind of a lot to think about. Which Keith hates, because he would probably be dead by now, so why is he _thinking_. 

Again, he doesn’t know. He wonders if death will be quiet, peaceful. If it’ll be anything at all. He closes his eyes, tilting his head back to the stars.

_What are you waiting for, you coward?_

He’s not sure.

Maybe some part of him, the child that believes in prince charmings and happy endings, is hoping for a miracle.

_Nothing is happening. Let go._

He leans forward, the temptation of freedom overwhelming him. 

“Keith.”

He opens his eyes, spotting a figure at the beginning of the bridge. He sits there, watching as it makes its way across. He knows them. 

“Lance?” He gasps out quietly. 

He’s close enough to see the tears running down his face now. Why is he crying?  
  
“Lance, what’s wrong?” He asks, concerned. Lance barks out a laugh, the tail end breaking off into a sob. He stops next to Keith, an arm’s length away.

“What’s _wrong_? Why are you asking me that? You’re- I thought you were- I mean...just, just come down please.”

_Oh_ . _Lance knows._

“Keith? Can you come down?”

He turns away, his grip on the railing tightening. He missed his chance. Why did he have to go and fuck it up again? Now Lance knew, and he was going to try and fix Keith and inevitably would become fed up with him, just like everyone else. And then Keith would be alone again. Right back where he started. 

“Keith,” he whispers. _“Please_.” 

“Why’d you come here, Lance?” He mutters bitterly, his heart not letting him give it up again.

“Why’d I _come_ ? Why wouldn’t I come? You’re one of my best friends! I _need_ you Keith. Please come down.”

Keith blinks hard, forcing the tears away, still not facing the other boy. 

He stares at the water. This is impossible with him here. He can’t. Slowly, he turns back to lock eyes with him. Lance’s are wide and glassy, tears streaming down his face. He can’t do this to him.

Carefully, he lifts his legs back over the railing and slides off to stand in front of Lance, who doesn’t waste a second before wrapping his arms around Keith. They’re both trembling. Lance sobs into his shoulder, babbling incoherently, his embrace only tightening. Keith buries his own face into Lance’s neck, too exhausted to be embarrassed about crying all over him. 

Once the two have barely collected themselves, Lance pulls back a bit, keeping his arms around Keith’s waist as if he were afraid he would float away. He’s stupidly pretty with the moonlight reflecting off of his glassy eyes. Keith wishes he could disappear.

Now that Lance knows, what is he going to do? 

“Keith,” Lance breathes quietly, his voice a bit scratchy. “Please don’t leave me. Please, I can’t-” 

“I’m sorry,” he sobs. He closes his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. Sobs escape his lips. “I didn’t know what to do. I’m a mess and I’m so tired, I’m tired of everything, I just, it seems pointless to me now and I _want_ , more than anything to just be ok but I can’t, I can’t do this anymore!”

And Lance is there again, wrapping his arms around Keith, carding a hand through his hair soothingly until he calms down again. When Keith’s sobs do die down, Lance still doesn’t let go, carefully rocking them side to side and whispering assurances into Keith’s ear.

“You’re ok, it’s ok, I’m here now, it’s going to be okay.”

“I love you.”

__

Lance drives him home. He holds his hand the entire ride.

__

Recovery isn’t easy.

It’s probably the hardest thing Keith has ever done. He’s on new medication and sees a therapist regularly, but there are still days he can’t get himself out of bed. But it’s easier with Lance around. His light encompasses the room. His chatter never fails to fill Keith’s heart. 

On those days, Lance is always there. If Keith can’t get out of bed, Lance stays in bed with him. If Keith is feeling destructive, Lance is there to pull him into his lap and sing his mother’s lullabies to him. 

They fight, obviously. But Lance never leaves, no matter how angry he is. Because they get through it, no matter what. 

Lance is the only loose end Keith couldn’t tie off. Instead of cutting him off, he tied himself to Lance. 

It turned out to be the best decision of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .........
> 
> Sorry to those of you who read the second ending. The endings did feel a bit rushed to me and this whole fic is kind of shitty but eh.
> 
> *edit* I deleted the sad ending bc it sucked

**Author's Note:**

> Pls scream at me in the comments thx.


End file.
